with gold, and almost concealed
under a large white kerchief, embroidered with sky-blue silk, and known
in Mexico as _pano de sol_. Under the fiery atmosphere, the white
colour of this species of scarf, like the _burnous_ of the Arabs, serves
to moderate the rays of the sun, and for this purpose was it worn by the
cavalier in question. Upon his feet were boots of yellow Cordovan
leather, and over these, large spurs, the straps of which were stitched
with gold and silver wire. These spurs, with their huge five-pointed
rowels, and little bells, gave out a silvery clinking that kept time to
the march of the horse--sounds most agreeable to the ear of the Mexican
_cavallero_.

A _mango_, richly slashed with gold lace, hung over the pommel of the
saddle in front of the horseman, half covering with its folds a pair of
wide pantaloons, garnished throughout their whole length with buttons of
filigree gold. In fine, the saddle, embroidered like the straps of the
spurs, completed a costume that, in the eyes of a European, would recall
the souvenirs of the middle ages. For all that, the horseman in
question did not require a rich dress to give him an air of distinction.
There was that in his bearing and physiognomy that denoted a man
accustomed to command and perfectly _au fait_ to the world.

His companion, much younger, was dressed with far more pretension: but
his insignificant figure, though not wanting in a certain degree of
elegance, was far from having the aristocratic appearance of him with
the embroidered kerchief.

The three servants that followed--with faces blackened by dust and sun,
and half savage figures--carried long lances adorned with scarlet
pennons, and _lazos_ hung coiled from the pommels of their saddles.
These strange attendants gave to the group that singular appearance
peculiar to a cavalcade of Mexican travellers. Several mules, pack
laden, and carrying enormous valises, followed in the rear. These
valises contained provisions and the _menage_ necessary for a halt.

On seeing Cuchillo and Baraja, the foremost of the two cavaliers halted,
and the troop followed his example.

"'Tis the Senor Don Estevan," said Baraja, in a subdued voice. "This is
the man, senor," he continued, presenting Cuchillo to the cavalier with
the _pano de sol_.

Don Estevan--for it was he--fixed upon Cuchillo a piercing glance, that
appeared to penetrate to the bottom of his soul, at the same time the
look denoted a s